


Andromeda

by CypressSunn



Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, all writing is writing no matter how small, free writing, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28841541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CypressSunn/pseuds/CypressSunn
Summary: or, the unwritten beginning to stories that never happened.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Andromeda

**Author's Note:**

  * For [villainstatus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/villainstatus/gifts).



> Originally written for a tumblr meme. My thude [Villainstatus](http://archiveofourown.org/users/villainstatus) prompted The Expanse for the "fic I won't write meme" and I was supposed to just write a summary of a hypothetical story. Instead I got this free-written drabble. So here I leave it for posterity.

As any good Belter would say; hope is the last thing left in any fool’s toolbox. That’s the only reason she sends one last beacon into the dark. Julie knows no one will hear it. Knows she is just another floater in the wasteland vacuum. Left alone and abandoned. Left dying of thirst, throat so dry the recycled air hurts her lungs, surrounded by drifting red droplets that bled fresh from her knuckles. She pounded on the locked doors when the delirium caught up with her, when she couldn’t make sound choices, could not conserve energy.

She is going to die out here. No one is coming for her. No one would even know where to look. Not her father. Not her sisters. Not Dawes.

Poor little Earther girl, lost in space. Poor little Earther girl is never going home. Poor little Julie thought she was important enough to survive--

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

“Hello? Can you hear us? Our monitors are picking up your heat signature.”

Julie gasps. Language is a distant memory to her thickened dry tongue. By the cry she lets out is real. Wild. Desperate. Keening.

“Hold on, we’re coming in--”

Julie hears the sound of electrical whirring, a sharp pitch grind of metal. Feels a flood of fresh rushing air. There are others with the man who speaks to her. They look shocked that someone as frail as she could still live. Julie would be just as surprised.

Hands find her shoulders. There is still no up nor down in this gravity-less world, but she feels as close to righted as she has in days. “Sorry about this, but we have to move you. I’m gonna carry you. You’ll see, we have cleaner air back on the ship, higher ox levels--”

“How... here... how did... you.” She doesn’t mean to beg. But she has to know.

Warm brown eyes find hers. “I’m Jim, and this is Amos, and Naomi. We’re here because our ship, the Cant, was hailed--”

If Julia’s tear ducts weren’t so chapped, she might cry.

Pulling her close, out of range from the others, the man called Jim moves her through the hallways, slow and steady, on course to the docking bay. “Its all alright. I got your message. I heard you.”

**_fin._ **


End file.
